Learning to Fall

They made their way to a clearing in the center of the village. Polished log benches and hide blankets surrounded a sizable pile of brush. Smaller cookfires were scattered around the perimeter, occasionally sizzling as cuts of meat dripped their juices onto the coals.

A number of dragonettes were already surrounding the bonfire-to-be. Quite a crowd, in fact. More than had greeted their initial landing, and they were trickling in by the moment.

Conversations muted as Aytin approached, and all eyes turned to him. They seemed curious for the most part, without the same sense of trepidation from when he arrived. When the young dragonette waved, many returned the gesture and even smiled.

It gave him hope for what was to come.

Rina maneuvered them to a pile of conspicuously empty blankets. She settled him in the very center before taking a place just behind him.

Wildlings continued to trickle into the clearing. Aytin recognized Saza. She was leading a gaggle of kids with a couple of exasperated looking minders in tow towards a spot on the far side of the bonfire. He caught her eye and gave her a smile, which the little terror returned with all the dignity of a high noble.

A group of what were obviously huntresses chatted amongst themselves not far from where the two of them sat. Small knots of friends and families were scattered around them, nearly all wearing blue-dyed hides with bits of fur peaking out around collars.

Many - especially the younger wildlings - had woven nests of criss-crossing leather strips between their horns, just like Saza. They hung ornaments from them. Bits of bone, colored stones, and a few glints of metal.

But the further around the fire, the more plainly dressed the wildlings became. Generally younger, too, until it reached the gaggle of hatchlings at the other side. There seemed to be a definite seating order.

Something about the whole setup twigged the back of Aytin's mind. He frowned, slightly, and then did a quick count.

"Where is the tribe?" he asked Rina. "You say there are many more than this in the tribe?" He motioned to the circle of seats. They might be able to fit eighty or ninety dragonettes if they were willing to tuck their wings in and squeeze, but that was less than half the number there were supposed to be.

The wildling huntress had been quiet up until then. And she kept her voice down as she replied, "We have three camps. This one is the biggest. The others are nearby, and the rest of the tribe lives in them."

"Why?" The top of this particular rise would be cramped, true, but there hadn't been any sign of habitation on others as he flew in. He would have expected them to live closer together.

Rina paused, obviously trying to think of a good response. "The tribe is like a big family, yes?"

"I understand."

"And a family... It..."

"A family sometimes needs space."

Rina jerked at the new voice from right behind her. The speaker was an older woman. Not ancient by any means. Likely in her seventies or eighties, judging by the silver frosting her skin and the stiffness with which she moved.

"Sit down, Rina," she ordered, and the much younger huntress let herself relax from the half-crouch she had risen to. With a relieved sigh, the older woman lowered herself to sit in the pile of blankets before fixing Aytin with a green-eyed gaze untouched by age. "You are the Dragon Faelon's Companion?"

She spoke slowly and clearly, carefully enunciating each word. He responded with a respectful nod. "Yes, I am Aytin, Companion to Faelon. You are a Matriarch?"

"I am Matriarch Vozdi." She dipped her head, the gesture precisely as deep as Aytin's own. "I welcome you to our tribe."

"I also welcome you to our tribe."

This new dragonette lithely folded in on herself as she sat to Aytin's left, opposite to Vozdi. She couldn't have been much older than Attalee or his own mother, only just past her prime. And unlike her, the new wildling wore a set of intricately decorated leather horn strips. Yet she introduced herself as Matriarch Onlo.

"You are surprised? You think I should be different? Older?" There was humor behind those words. That was obvious, even through the language barrier.

"I not have a chance to learn about you," Aytin said, hedging. "I busy learning language and healing."

"So you are surprised?" A self-satisfied smirk grew on her face.

"Stop that, Onlo," the other Matriarch snapped. To Aytin, she explained, "Age does not make a dragonette a Matriarch. There are other reasons. Traditions. Some reasons are hard to understand." That last was delivered with a pointed look towards Onlo, who only cackled.

"Ah, but you love me, Vozi!" She got a deep sigh in response.

By this time, the clearing was full of wildlings. No stragglers had made their way up for several minutes, and looking behind himself, Aytin didn't see anyone else sneaking up from behind.

"Matriarchs, aren't there three of you?" he asked, forcing any hint of trepidation out of his voice.

Onlo's laughter trailed off and her counterpart looked somber. "Healer Agon is with Matriarch Nej," the older of the pair answered. "She is not well."

Aytin's heart skipped a beat. "Oh. Is it bad?" Agon had spent the last two days working on fixing his wings. 'If something happens to her and they blame me...'

But Vozdi put his fears to rest. "He says she will live. Nej is older than I am, but she is strong. You will meet her tomorrow."

"I will like to meet her," Aytin replied, stumbling slightly but getting the point across. It seemed to satisfy the two Matriarchs at least.

The shadows had lengthened since they had sat down. Large swaths of the clearing were striped with alternating columns of light and dark.

Cue walked down one of these paths of sunlight, and a quiet settled throughout the gathered wildlings. He was turned out in his patchwork ceremonial garb. In one hand, he waved a gnarled staff daubed with blue painted runes. As he approached, he turned and began to scatter the contents of a pouch as he circled around the firepit.

Aytin couldn't make out what the shaman was saying. It was some sort of incomprehensible mumbling chant. While the wildling tongue had a familiar feel to it, these words were different. Alien.

He circled the pit four times and stopped. A pair of helpers brought a small, clay pot and set it in front of him. The shaman strode over and, after drawing a small knife, made a cut along his wrist. He dribbled blood into the pot for nearly a minute before the flow slowed. At that point, another wildling bound the wound in a strip of hide.

Dipping his staff into the pot, Cue coated the tip in the deep-blue mixture within. Dragging the staff, he inscribed a wavy line around the piled wood. On the next pass, he added little markings and symbols. Then more on the next. They were almost invisible in the shadows cast by the surrounding trees.

Finally, appearing satisfied, the shaman halted just in front of Aytin and the Matriarchs. He stood there, hands raised, as he faced the setting sun, a sliver of which was visible all the way through the woods.

Just as that tiny slice of light touched the horizon, Cue bent double, slamming his outstretched hands to the ground. A green spark jumped from his fingertips to race around the inscribed circle before jumping into the wood contained within. It erupted into brilliant flames and the onlookers burst into a mass of cheers, chest thumping, and foot stomping.

It was a signal that the feast had begun.

Several wildlings scurried to pass out wide strips of thin bark. They were followed by a procession of servers bearing wooden platters of meat accompanied by clay pots that steamed in the cooling air.

The servers started with Aytin and the Matriarchs before working their way around either side of the circle. Each one added some of their particular dish to his bark plate until it was heaped with food.

A surreptitious look confirmed that his neighbors were already eating, so he dug in.

It wasn't the best meal he had ever had, but since leaving home Aytin had been forced to change his definition of what constituted a good meal. This was hot, well cooked, and even if it could have used some salt, there were enough other seasonings to make it tasty.

As the guest of honor, he also got the best cuts. There were pieces of both venison backstrap and wild boar tenderloin on his plate, along with a mash made of a wild tuber and some sort of boiled green leafy dish. He even got a small serving of stewed fruit.

The burst of conversation quickly died away into a dull background muttering. There was apparently an unstated rule that eating was more important than talking. It was a rule that Aytin wholeheartedly approved of.

Cue accepted a large plate and settled nearby. His normal nervous energy was conspicuously absent, likely drained by the display of magic. Without it, he seemed somehow less. But the shaman also seemed satisfied as he shoveled down food with a will.

No one could have asked for better weather for an outdoor feast. There wasn't a cloud in the darkening sky, nor much more than a breath of wind to rustle the dying leaves. And while the cool night air was chasing the setting sun, the bonfire kept everyone more than warm enough.

A few wildlings stood to help themselves to seconds from the remains of the feast. Aytin didn't. He had to struggle to finish everything that he had been given, and his vest was starting to feel a lot less loose by the end of the meal.

Voices had picked up as the last sliver of sun slipped below the horizon. The Matriarchs seemed content to remain silent, however, and Cue was busy finishing his second plate.

Rina was quietly pushing the last scrap of mashed tuber around her plate with one talon. She had remained unobtrusive throughout. So much so that Aytin nearly forgot she was there. He looked back to check on her, only to find her gazing towards the nearby group of huntresses. When she noticed the attention, she snapped her head around and gave him a forced smile.

If he could have said something, Aytin would have. But with the Matriarchs right there and Rina already so nervous, he didn't want to push it.

Just then, Cue set his plate down and gave a small nod to Matriarch Vozdi, who exchanged a look of her own with Onlo. As one, the three rose. Aytin was about to follow, but Rina's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

The crowd quieted until there were only faint whispers audible over the crackling of the fire.

Either the Matriarch was deliberately keeping her speech simple or he was improving at the language faster than he thought, because Aytin was able to catch most of what Vozdi had to say. A few bits were incomprehensible, but whispered questions to Rina helped clear them up.

There was a general welcome to the gathered wildlings followed by a more specific one to Aytin as Faelon's Companion. He expected the Matriarch to take that opportunity to invite him to speak or at least describe why he was here. Cue had to have told them that much, at least, and he figured he would be asked to put forth Faelon's plea at some point.

Instead, she spoke about how Faelon's arrival was some sort of good omen. How the dragon's presence had blessed the forest with the bounty gathered for this feast. There was more talk about a hard winter coming, but how she was confident that they would weather the coming season like they always had before.

Her words were interrupted by a commotion off to one side. Not far down the circle, a male wildling had stood. He wasn't alone, either. A small group rose with him as he started shouting. His loud words easily carried over the elder Matriarch's, but they came too fast for Aytin to follow.

"Khrik is saying that Dragon Faelon needs our help." Rina looked somewhat scandalized as she spoke. "He asks why the Matriarchs do not say this. He asks the rest of the tribe to help Dragon Faelon."

Uneasy whispers abounded in the pause that followed.

Matriarch Onlo stepped forward. Her younger voice succeeded in overpowering the agitator where Vozdi's had failed. The words were cool, and snapped out in a rapid fire cadence.

"She says that they speak to you after the feast," Rina told him as the crowd descended into dozens of whispered conversations. "That they need time and quiet to understand what Faelon needs."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Khrik waited just long enough for the muttering to reach a fever pitch before making his reply. "The Dragon Faelon is here for the entire tribe! Why not discuss his needs out in the open instead of in some dark corner?"

This time, Aytin didn't need help to piece together the wildling's words. The entire exchange surprised him, though. It was clearly unusually. Matriarchs Onlo and Vozdi seemed genuinely angry at the interruption. But they didn't seem surprised by the allegations of Faelon needing help.

A suspicion grew into a certainty. 'They knew. They knew and they weren't going to say anything.'

So far, Cue had remained quiet. But Aytin thought he caught a flash of something in the young shaman's expression. Far from the annoyance of his elders, there was... satisfaction?

Suddenly, a number of things made a lot more sense.

Aytin stood, and the motion interrupted whatever the Matriarchs' next response was going to be.

"I am Aytin, Companion to the Dragon Faelon," he said, voice carrying throughout the now hushed gathering. "Thank you Matriarch Vozdi and Matriarch Onlo for your welcome." He bowed slightly to both, who returned the gesture with guarded expressions.

"It is truth that I come here to ask for help for Dragon Faelon." Khrik and his crowd grew excited at the confirmation, however Aytin quickly added, "But this is a thing to talk about with the Matriarchs and your Companion. I must know what the tribe has. Faelon does not want to ask for what you do not have, or give you gifts you do have." The mention of gifts caused a small stir among the gathered wildlings. "Your leaders know of these things. I talk to them, and after I talk to you."

He bowed again, this time to the tribe as a whole, before taking a step back. His words seemed to take both groups by surprise, but it was Matriarch Vozdi who recovered first.

"As the Companion says, it is easier to speak of these things in small numbers. We will hear what Dragon Faelon needs and provide all we can. We would not offer less."

"I know this," Aytin replied, formally. "We talk about what Dragon Faelon needs now?"

Vozdi nodded, and made a motion towards a nearby hut. The tribe broke down into conversation as the two Matriarchs strode away, followed by Cue.

The Shaman didn't show a hint of smugness, but he also appeared to be keeping his body language under tight control. His tail was held like a steel rod as he walked and his ears remained motionless as he stared straight ahead.

Aytin was nearly halfway to the hut when he realized that Rina was no longer with him. She was standing where he left her, seeming to be torn between following and remaining behind. When the huntress didn't follow at his motion, Aytin walked back over and took her hand.

The much larger huntress let herself be pulled along without protest. In fact, she seemed a little relieved, possibly that the decision had been taken out of her hands.

It was dark in the hut. A window covered in a thin, translucent hide let in a little firelight, but the only other source of light came from the dirty flame in a small, clay lamp.

Aytin almost stumbled as he stepped over the threshold, only to be caught by Rina. The huntress didn't seem to have any problems with the dim light, and guided him to a pile of furs opposite the wildling leaders.

Rather than speak to him, Matriarch Onlo's first words were directed towards Cue. "What do you think you were doing out there?"

Her jovial tone from the start of the feast was gone, replaced by a hissed snarl. But the words just rolled off of Cue like rain off of a dragon's wings.

"Me? I did nothing! Khrik was the one to speak, not me," he protested.

"Khrik spoke, but you put the words in his mouth! Who else could have told him of Faelon's needs?"

"But Khrik is right," Cue countered, ignoring the question. "We must help Faelon!"

"You will be quiet, or I'll-"

Aytin didn't catch exactly what it was she would do. Something about using the shaman's wing? Whatever for, he couldn't tell, but there was a small gasp from Rina. And while Cue still looked like he wanted to say more, he kept his mouth shut.

"Now, Companion Aytin," Onlo said, some of the edge leaving her voice. "We have heard some from both Huntress Ness and Cue about why you are here. Please, tell us the full story."

And so he did. Most of it, anyway.

It was by no means easy or quick. No matter what Rina said, Aytin's wildling was very rough. It didn't help that he still had difficulties speaking in the past tense, but the Matriarchs were understanding and Rina proved her worth as a translator. They had spent so much time together that she knew exactly the extent of his vocabulary and how best to explain new words and concepts.

He told them that Faelon had been attacked and injured through treachery. How he, himself, had been captured and later rescued by the dragon. And how the brigands would soon return to try to finish them both.

He also told them about the pile of supplies the dragon had brought with him, and how he would be willing to share it in return for aid.

To that effect, Aytin produced a trio of small knives and a bolt of fabric. Both gifts were received with no small excitement. The wildlings had already shown how much they valued steel, but they made almost as much of a production over the pure white wool.

Most of the wildlings dressed in either natural colors or else dyed their clothing blue with their blood. But they appeared to lack any method for bleaching fabric, or even much in the way of clothing that wasn't leather or fur. And there was quite a bit of both wool and linen in the cargo.

"You offer more like this for our help?" Matriarch Vozdi asked.

"Yes, much more. Tools and weapons and clothing and salt. Other things too. More than fifty dragonettes can carry."

When the Matriarchs were silent, Rina spoke up. "It is an amazing treasure. I have seen it. My new bow..." She trailed off, suddenly self-conscious under the collective gaze of her tribe's leadership.

"I am sure it is as amazing as these gifts are," the elder Matriarch said, not unkindly. "But will it let you hunt during winter cold and storms? Is it good enough for you to do the job of two huntresses?"

Silently, the huntress shook her head.

"I thought not." To Aytin, she said, "Winter comes soon. Our tribe is not so big that we can afford to send huntresses and workers to fight rather than harvest. Even losing the handful we have sent to help Dragon Faelon has been felt. And you would not offer so much if there weren't great risk."

Reluctantly, the young dragonette nodded. "The ones who fly with the traitor dragon are skilled. If you fight them with us, some will not come back."

It wasn't worth lying, or even concealing the danger. The wildlings were uncivilized, not stupid. He had never doubted that fact, and spending nearly a week with Rina and witnessing the political machinations of the leaders only confirmed his original intuition.

"In your treasures, do you have food?" Onlo asked.

"Some," Aytin ventured. "And salt to keep other food longer."

"How much? Enough to feed the tribe for weeks? Months?"

"Days," he admitted. "The traitors have more. But... not enough for months."

The two Matriarchs shared a look, and Aytin felt his heart sink. "I am afraid," Onlo said, her voice tinged with what sounded like genuine regret, "that we cannot spare enough dragonettes to help."

"The traitors want these treasures. And Faelon will burn them if he has to."

He didn't think that the wildlings had planned on looting the cache after he and Faelon were dead, but he felt like he had to make one last attempt to convince them to help. Onlo's ears did twitch slightly at his words, but the elder of the two Matriarchs remained unperturbed.

"I understand. It is a great loss, but we cannot risk the tribe starving next to piles of steel that we cannot eat."

"It doesn't matter!" Cue broke in. He had been silent up until then, but the final verdict had been more than he was willing to stomach.

"The Dragon Faelon needs our help! We must give it! No matter the sacrifice!"

Matriarch Vozdi was quick to jump on the young shaman. "We will not allow you to doom our tribe!"

"It doesn't matter what you want." Now Cue didn't bother to hide his smug expression. "Khrik isn't the only one in the tribe who understands respect for Dragon Faelon. How are you going to stop us all from going to help him? Will you drag us back and break our wings? What then?"

Vozdi scoffed. "How many have you managed to convince? A handful? Two?"

"More understand their duty than you think. And I know that most of the tribe will agree once they hear of the Dragon's need."

Before the Matriarch could retort, Onlo touched her arm and shook her head. "You are making a mistake, Companion Cue," she said, ominously. But her tone held a note of uncertainty.

Aytin had managed to follow most of the exchange. Into the dark silence that followed the Matriarch's pronouncement, he said, "I am sorry. Dragon Faelon and I do not want to break your tribe."

"And I wish to never fly into the wind," Vozdi muttered, but she gave the visitor a grudging nod.

"I have a strange question," he began, choosing his words carefully. During the argument, he had been desperately searching for a solution that might satisfy the wildlings. And he thought he might have one.

The Matriarch, no doubt just as desperate for some way to keep her tribe from fragmenting, gave a slight frown but only said, "Ask."

"You do not sleep in the winter. I mean you do not sleep for weeks."

"We do sleep," Vozdi said, a lack of understanding plain on her face.

"But not at night and day. Not the whole time," Aytin pressed. But the wildlings' confusion gave him hope.

"No, we sleep much of the time. But we must hunt and cook and make preparations for spring. Why do you ask this?"

"Because dragons go to sleep in the winter and do not wake until spring."

The pronouncement was greeted with no small amount of surprise by the wildlings. Cue was nodding like Aytin had just bestowed some piece of divine wisdom. Both Matriarchs seemed interested, but neither quite grasped the point.

"There are frogs like that," Rina said, momentarily forgetting her surroundings. "You can find them in the mud during the winter if you dig."

"Are you saying that Dragon Faelon is like a frog?" Cue's expression made it clear what the answer to that particular question needed to be.

"I'm sure she does not," Aytin interrupted. "But Faelon can share the magic!"

'Or at least, he can share the Heaven Oak bark, which is the same thing.' It was more complicated than that, and Agon would need to help some of them into and out of the coma, but close enough.

"And sleeping dragonettes do not need to eat," Matriarch Vozdi said, slowly. She had obviously figured out the importance of Aytin's words and her partner wasn't far behind.

"Would the entire tribe sleep?" the other Matriarch asked.

That question took a little thought. Being from a relatively rich keep in the south where winters were mild at worst, Aytin had never been forced to hibernate. But he did know more or less how it worked.

"No," he eventually replied. "Many will sleep. Maybe most." There wasn't enough Heaven Oak bark in the cache to put that many into hibernation for months, but there was the stand of heaven oaks near the ruined keep. They could provide all the bark that the tribe would ever need.

"Keep the huntresses and strong dragonettes awake," he eventually answered. "You have enough food for them and helping Faelon!"

"Do you see? Did I not tell you?!" Cue was almost beside himself with excitement. "The Dragon Faelon will provide for us!"

"Only if our tribe bleeds for him." The comment earned Vozdi a glare from the shaman, but she returned it with her own hard stare.

But Aytin sensed that the Matriarchs were wavering, and so he pressed, "Your tribe will be stronger. Faelon will give much now, if you agree. And when we fight, we will not waste lives. Rina knows we would not."

He didn't want to put the huntress in front of her superiors like that, but she didn't shirk from the attention.

"Companion Aytin and Dragon Faelon have honor. They have never lied. They have never asked for what they do not need, and they have given freely from what they have. I think we should help them."

Vozdi and Onlo shared another of their looks. Their expressions were unreadable, but the elder flicked her ears and the other nodded slightly. Then they turned back to face the young dragonette who had come to meet them.

"Our tribe will aid the Dragon Faelon," Matriarch Vozdi said, formally.

The relief Aytin felt was so strong that he had to burn his magic to keep from collapsing. "Th... Thank you!"

"However," Onlo added. "We cannot spare the entire tribe. Even most of it. You know this, Cue." She directed the last at the shaman, who looked annoyed despite his victory. "Ten huntresses. And a little more than that from among the ranks of the rest of the tribe. But only those who wish to go."

"We should-"

"We cannot!" The younger Matriarch's tone made it clear she would accept no argument, and Cue wisely chose not to press the point.

"Again, thank you. And Dragon Faelon thanks you," Aytin quickly said. It wasn't as many as he hoped for, but with luck it would be enough. And he had a feeling it was the best deal he would get. Although, he did need to convey the urgency of his request. "The traitors come in less than two weeks. When will the tribe be ready?"

This time, it was Vozdi who replied. "We will announce it to the tribe in the morning. You will leave in the afternoon or the day after. Is this acceptable?" At his nod, she said, "Good. Now it is late and there is much to do in the morning. Rina will find you a place to sleep. Cue, you will remain here. We have things to discuss."

The two of them rose and bowed to the elders, leaving behind a distinctly unhappy looking Cue to face the ire of the Matriarchs.

Night had long since fallen, and the settlement was quiet. It was also cold, and Aytin wished fervently for the longer shirt and jacket along with his other things. But with what little moonlight there was blocked by the trees, he couldn't exactly run.

Thankfully, Rina seemed to have no trouble navigating in the darkness. It wasn't long before they were outside of a small hut.

But when he squinted, he realized that he recognized this particular hut. It was Rina's, the one she shared with the other huntresses.

Which actually made sense. His things were still in there. But instead of ducking in to grab the bag, Rina turned to face him.

"It is cold tonight."

"Yes. It is cold." Standing still, he was starting to feel the lethargy seep in.

There was an odd tone in Rina's voice as she said, "The shelters are not made for cold. They are summer homes."

It took a few seconds for Aytin's fatigue and cold clouded mind to start connecting the dots. "Uhhh..."

"It would be much warmer if... if we both sleep here."

He just caught Rina's ears twitching in the darkness, like she was forcing them to stay upright.

'She... she can't be thinking...'

The huntress opened the hide flap, and then held it for him. He could just make out the wide smile on her face. And a faint purring filled the small room as he entered and she pinned the flap in place behind them.

As it turned out, that was exactly what she was thinking.